Chapter 17: Cookouts
The weekend passed quietly. Sam and Jack settled into their new residence, already starting the process of spreading personal belongings around the house beginning on Saturday. Jack's fishing and hockey magazines appeared on the coffee table as well as some of Sam's about classic cars and motorcycles, mingled with a few of their journals on astronomy and astrophysics. Hopefully, no one would look too closely, or they might think Jack had some unusual varied interests. A certain picture took up residence on the fridge, and Jack wisely chose not to comment on the childish drawing's reappearance. Likewise, he made no comment as a few toys scattered about the house here and there, and a small pair of blue and white tennis shoes joined his that had been left carelessly by the door. Slowly, the house began to take on a lived in feel.
The one thing they lacked were any personal photos on display. Unfortunately, the only photos Sam had of herself at a younger age were obviously dated; products of the 60's, many in faded color and some even in black and white. If that hadn't been enough, clothing, hairstyles, and backgrounds would have given the pictures away as being from another era entirely. The more recent photos Jack had showed an older Sam. Two years was too major a difference in childhood to be of any use.
While they'd decided that perhaps some photos of Sam's adult self might pass as being of Sam's mother, they had a hard time finding any that didn't contain the rest of SG-1, or didn't show the two of them in anything but military dress. The few photos of Jack and Sam alone were usually candid shots captured by their teammates and friends, with only a small handful during off-base gatherings. And while they could perhaps add some of her or Jack alone or with Janet or Cassie, they decided that those few lone photos would stick out with the lack of any other photos, especially ones of a younger version of Sam. They simply decided that the absence of photos was a result of Jack's marital separation from Sam's mother, who according to their cover story lived in Europe part of the year, and traveled frequently to many exotic places during the rest of the year, hence Sam's living with her father and attending school in Colorado. It also would account for the basic, albeit comfortable, appearance of the décor.
On Sunday, Jack chased both of them outside. They'd both spent all day Saturday indoors, Sam holed up in the guest room, refreshing herself on her cover, or doing a little research online. Jack parked himself in the recliner, surfing the many TV channels while taking the time to work on his own cover.
Sunday however, dawned clear with mild temperatures. "I think I'll go for a run," Jack told her over breakfast. "Care to join me?" he asked. As Sam looked up, he added with a slight smirk, "Try not to get pulled over for speeding this time though."
Sam ducked her head over her cereal bowl. "Sure, why not?" she replied, shrugging slightly as if it didn't matter to her and ignoring the jibe, but she'd been eyeing the clear day out the window since she'd gotten up that morning and was wondering what she could do about it. Jack's suggestion worked out quite well, making is so that she'd not be limited to the yard.
After breakfast, they both changed into shorts and t-shirts, and Jack opened the garage door. They'd put her bike and helmet inside, and Sam was ready in moments. She coasted down the driveway and waited for Jack. "You should probably keep in sight of me," he told her, and Sam nodded. She'd already intended to. This early Sunday morning there was next to no traffic on the wide, quiet streets. She figured she could loop around if needed, going in circles as Jack made progress on his run.
They set off companionably, Sam riding up and down the block as Jack ran, keeping in visual distance of each other. There weren't any big hills, but Sam still had a good time not having to worry about any speed restrictions. She'd be hard pressed to exceed the 25 mph posted limit on a kid's bike without any steep hills.
Towards the end of the run, Jack was winding down his workout on the opposite side of the street from their house when a woman that no doubt lived in the house directly across from theirs hailed him. Jack slowed, stopping and stretching as the older woman left her flower garden to stand up and greet him. The woman was slender, skin browned and weathered from much time spent out of doors, shoulders slightly hunched with age. She appeared to be at least in her 70's, the hair under he wide brimmed gardener's hat gone nearly all white. Sam turned her bike around, and went to join them. The two were already in conversation as Jack did a few standing stretches.
"And this is my daughter, Sam," Jack said as she arrived, and then motioned towards the woman standing next to him in introduction. "Sam, this is Mrs. Day."
"How do you do," Sam said, offering her hand.
"Oh, so polite!" Mrs. Day exclaimed, removing her gardening gloves and accepting Sam's small hand. Despite hands slightly gnarled with age and arthritis, the woman's grip was sure, belying a strength masked by their appearance. The woman vibrated with a sense of vitality, masked by her aged appearance. "I'm doing quite well, dear," she answered. "And how old are you?"
Sam blinked, belatedly realizing that as a child, that question was one she'd receive rather frequently. Aside from little Jenny in the daycare center, no one had asked the question, and it had been years since she'd been asked outright her age. "I'm five ma'am," she answered, automatically falling back into the respectful form of address for a child to an adult that she'd been taught at an early age as the daughter of an Air Force officer.
"Oh, my, her manners are impeccable," Mrs. Day told Jack as if Sam wasn't there, and Sam was startled to realize that like being quizzed on her age whenever meeting a new adult or child, she'd also be ignored for the most part by adults in general. Adults carried on conversations over children's heads, expecting them to either be disinterested, or to not understand the conversation. General Hammond and the Joint Chiefs had obviously remembered and counted on this little facet of life, but it was reassuring to see that they had been entirely correct. She watched Jack and their new neighbor for several moments, as the woman began to enumerate the shortcomings of the children that lived in a house a short way down the street. The woman seemed to be information central for their little neighborhood and part of her wanted to stay and listen, but the rest of her realized that not only would she as a five year old not be interested in the conversation, but that she also couldn't join in. Still, as she pointed her bike out to the street she felt a brief pang of sympathy for Jack, who couldn't escape as easily. The woman seemed the type to talk one's ear off given the opportunity. She likely had lived in the area for some time, and seemed to thrive on gossip. Currently, Mrs. Day was clucking either sympathetically or disapprovingly over the news that Jack and his wife were separated, and giving her own opinions on marriage and divorce.
"Sam, make sure you stay on the street," Jack called to her as she pulled away, and she gave him a wave in reply, catching his fleeting gaze of longing as she began making circles on the street. The admonishment again reminded her of her lack of freedom, but she smirked slightly as she realized that in some cases her child guise gave her more freedom. In this instance, she had the freedom to escape the local gossip without appearing rude.
She made several wide, lazy loops up and down the street, until she noticed Jack growing gradually more and more antsy. After another lap, she pulled into their driveway, and then left her bike, trotting across the street. Jack was pretending to be engrossed in what Mrs. Day was telling him, some bit of drama about a neighbor's dog and her prized roses.
"Dad," Sam said, tugging on Jack's arm, "I can't get the garage door open."
Jack looked apologetically at Mrs. Day. "I should go, I don't want to keep you from…" he waved vaguely at the extensive flower gardens.
"Oh, no trouble at all, I enjoyed our little chat Mr. Um…"
"Lewis," Jack finished for her. "Jack Lewis." He dropped one hand on Sam's shoulder, turning her around toward their house and giving her a gentle nudge in the right direction as he edged away from the conversation.
"A pleasure meeting you Mr. Lewis, and you too dear," Mrs. Day waved as they departed, and Sam waved back, unconsciously slipping into a little skip she'd practiced with Sergeant Nichols to keep up as Jack all but jogged across the street, activating the garage door opener and ducking under as soon as the opening was large enough.
"Thanks, Sam, I owe you one," Jack told her as she followed, wheeling her bike inside the garage.
"You looked like you needed rescuing, sir," Sam told him, removing her helmet and hanging it off the bike's handlebars.
Jack shook his head as he unlocked the door to the kitchen and set the garage door to close. "Like you wouldn't believe. On the other hand, I now have the complete low down on just about everyone in a two block radius of here." He dropped his keys on the counter and shook his head again.
"Anything interesting?" Sam asked.
"I'll tell you over lunch," he replied, already opening the fridge. "How do sandwiches sound?"
"I thought we were having burgers today," she answered, using her step stool to reach down glasses and pouring both of them water from the filtered tap on the sink. Jack had been quite thrilled to discover the rather impressive grill on the back deck, with a full set of patio furniture. He'd been dying for an excuse to "break it in" as he'd told her. Hence the plan for burgers for lunch, so they could both enjoy the nice day in the comfort of their own backyard.
Jack's head emerged from the fridge. "We were, but I've changed my mind. We can have burgers tomorrow, when we have Daniel and Teal'c over. Have a little backyard barbeque."
Sam frowned slightly, taking a sip of water. "I thought it wasn't safe to meet outside," she said. They'd all agreed that occasional meetings outside of school hours would not cause trouble, but they had decided it was safest to hold those meetings indoors and out of sight, and definitely not out in public if they could help it.
"Well, thanks to Mrs. Day, and her encyclopedic knowledge of the area, I now know that neither of our neighbors have any children living at home. Additionally, the neighbor to our right is on vacation until next week, and the one on the left is going to a family cookout tomorrow." Jack grinned, and started unloading lunchmeats onto the island, taking her lack of answer for an affirmative as to the change in menu as he continued to fill her in on the Intel he'd just gathered. "Besides, no one will see over that six foot privacy fence without a stepladder. And furthermore," he continued as Sam wandered over to join him, placing his glass of water on the counter, "Mrs. Day has informed me that she knows of no children attending Providence Day School in the area, and additionally, knows of no one even working there." Sam's eyebrows lifted, and a faint frown formed as she considered the info. Jack gave her a knowing look, and smirked slightly.
"In fact," he added, pausing dramatically to take a sip of water, "The only person she knows of, or rather knew of, that worked at the school hung herself three years ago. I'll have to check, but no doubt the woman is on that list of deaths and missing persons." He shook his head slightly. "I tell you, Sam, that woman thrives on drama. She'll probably have told everyone on the block about us by the end of the day."
Sam grinned and relaxed, putting down her half-empty glass and started to help with lunch preparations after dragging over her step stool. There was no reason to doubt Mrs. Day's information, and it had been sheer good luck to run into her so soon after moving in. She saw no reason they couldn't meet up with their teammates in the privacy of their backyard on the few seasonable days left before cooling temperatures and weather drove them inside. "Well, we're pretty stocked for a cookout, sir. We've got burgers, hot dogs, rolls, chips and drinks. I saw some potatoes yesterday and can make some potato salad if you want. The only thing we don't have is dessert," she finished.
Jack's face lit up. "I'll tell Daniel and Teal'c to pick some up when I call them," he said. He grinned. "Cake."
"With chocolate frosting," Sam added, and returned the Colonel's grin impishly. "A girl needs a little chocolate now and then."
"As long as it's cake," he replied, and reached down some chips for the two of them, adding a handful to each plate.
After lunch, the two of them ended up back outside, this time in the backyard. At Jack's urging (or nagging, depending on one's point of view) Sam eventually tried out the sliding board. Finding it less thrilling than the large one at the park, she used one of the swings for a little while to appease the Colonel. But once Jack had settled down on the chaise with a sports magazine, Sam fetched out her own reading material. There being only one chaise lounge, Sam found herself climbing the jungle gym part of the play set and curled up inside the wood and plastic fort, able to spread out comfortably after stealing one of the pillows they'd found stored in the garage off a patio chair.
When it started growing too dark to read, Sam reemerged from the child-sized fortress to find Jack already stretching. Together, they made an unremarkable dinner followed by another game, this time, at Jack's insistence, Chutes and Ladders.
Despite herself, Sam found she was drawn into the game, perhaps in part because of Jack's unrestrained enthusiasm. Besides, after he'd gleefully laughed and gloated every time her marker had moved backwards down a slide, she could only retaliate in kind when Jack had the misfortune to land on the largest slide just before finishing, while her almost constant backwards movement during the game had set her up to take the longest ladder and win the game.
She had to plead fatigue, which wasn't exaggerated, to fight off Jack's demands for an immediate rematch. Despite her wide yawn though, he only became placated when she suggested they have the rematch the following night, with Teal'c and Daniel.
Shaking her head in amusement, Sam headed down the hallway and got ready for bed. It seemed only a few minutes passed after her head hit the pillow before she was fast asleep.
The next day, Sam found herself outside, riding her bike as the rest of SG-1 pulled up using Daniel's borrowed vehicle. She coasted to a stop alongside the car as they parked behind the SUV and got out.
"Hey guys," she said, leaning forward casually over the handlebars, one foot on the ground to steady the bike.
"Greetings, Samantha," returned Teal'c.
"Hey Sam, you look good," added Daniel. "Let me guess, Jack threw you out of the kitchen?"
With a rueful nod, Sam dismounted, walking her bike into the garage along with her teammates. "You know how he is. Always complaining he can't achieve perfection with people around underfoot. At least this time, he was right," she admitted. Daniel laughed, and Teal'c looked amused. Just then, a loud curse was heard from the open screen door to the kitchen.
"Uh, maybe we should go out back," Sam recommended, pointing towards the door in the back of the garage with a slight wince as noisy clattering commenced and cupboard doors were banged open and closed. It had been slightly noisier than usual today, as the Colonel no doubt spent extra time searching for necessary ingredients and cooking implements.
"Good idea," said Daniel, after his own sideways look.
"An excellent suggestion," added Teal'c.
Risking life and limb, Sam darted into the kitchen long enough to let Jack know that Daniel and Teal'c had arrived, and to grab them all drinks. She had to duck as Jack spun around with a large knife, forgetting he was holding it. "Whoa!" she yelped, hastily taking a step back.
"Sorry Carter," Jack said, quickly putting the knife down. "What?" he asked, as she stood there holding the drinks and grinning back at him. Realization dawned, and he groaned. "You surprised me, didn't I tell you to get out and stay out of my kitchen?" he complained even as he reached for his back pocket to pull out a dollar bill.
"The surprised moments are gonna be the hardest ones, sir," she replied teasingly, and Jack pretended to go for the knife after dropping the bill in the modified "swear jar" they'd come up with the previous night. They didn't know what they'd use the money for yet, but the jar had seen heavy usage already as they worked on using correct forms of address. Before Jack could even take a step towards her she'd darted out the back door, joining Teal'c and Daniel at the table with their drinks.
"The Colonel's in fine form you guys, gonna be a good one tonight," Sam told them as she climbed into a chair. The more Jack swore and banged things about, the better the food seemed to be. She blinked as she belatedly realized what she'd said. "Oops." Muttering, she dug a dollar bill out of her pocket and tossed it onto the table. No way was she going back in there.
Daniel's eyebrows rose and Teal'c looked curious.
Sam debated telling them for a moment, and then decided it was only fair. Jack was likely to expand the jar to them anyway, and knowing him, it would be without warning. She coughed slightly. "Dad and I have come up with a surefire way to get our names straight," she told them. "Anytime one of us slips up, we have to put a dollar in the Oops Jar."
"Oops Jar?" asked Daniel, curiously.
"Dad's idea," she admitted, feeling more than a little awkward in addressing her CO as "Dad," especially to her teammates. Fortunately she was saved any comments by the timely arrival of the man in question, bearing a platter of uncooked meat for the already heated grill.
"Hey you two," he said by way of greeting, juggling the platter and several implements for cooking.
Knowing better than to offer assistance when Jack was grilling, Daniel and Teal'c remained seated, greeting Jack by his cover name, Mr. Lewis.
Jack glared accusingly at her. "You told them, didn't you?" he demanded.
Sam shrugged helplessly, and gestured at the dollar bill lying on the table. Somewhat appeased, Jack grinned widely at her slip. So far, she'd gotten off lightly since the team had decided "Sir" was ok. She only had trouble when she needed to gain his attention or spoke about him, rather than answering questions. "Colonel" still had a tendency to slip out rather than "Dad" more often than not. They'd decided as a group the Thursday before to stick with their new pseudonyms, after Daniel had pointed out the more they used the familiar forms of address, the more likely said forms of address were to slip out at inopportune moments. It was Jack that had decided some form of payment system was needed to drive the message home, only he'd found to his dismay that he'd slipped up with "Carter" or "Major" way more than she did. Of course, the concession that she could still use "Sir" had been a major boon. Still, a good bit of the money in the jar was hers, and this gathering would likely be a true test of her memory. It wouldn't do to refer to her father as "The Colonel" to one of her teachers after all, especially considering that by his cover, he was retired, now acting as a civilian consultant. Nor would it look right to be on a first name only basis with any adult at her physical age, especially ones in a position of authority like Daniel as her teacher and even Teal'c as a janitor.
Turning his back on them, Jack added the burgers to the grill, the juice hitting the hot grate with a sizzle and clouds of fragrant hickory smoke. Once all the patties were on the grill, he turned back around, pointing a spatula in the direction of the table. "Anyone slips up has to put a dollar in the Oops Jar," he warned them, glaring threateningly and confirming Sam's suspicions.
Daniel held up his hands in mock surrender while Teal'c merely nodded. Jack leveled another glare in her direction before turning his attention back to the grill. Knowing he was occupied with the act of burning meat, Sam used the opportunity to slip into the kitchen, bringing out plates and the side dishes. Daniel stood up to help.
"You guys remembered to bring the cake, right?" Jack asked as they set the table.
"Indeed Mr. Lewis, it is in Monsieur Paxton's vehicle. It has the chocolate frosting that Samantha requested," answered Teal'c smoothly, with a nod in her direction, a slight smile indicating he was baiting Jack by using all of their aliases correctly in one sentence.
Sam smothered a giggle as she handed Jack the burger rolls. Jack snatched the bag, complaining under his breath, but Sam didn't mind, he'd just opened the grill and it smelled delicious. His burgers were always worth any inconvenience. She'd had to make the potato salad earlier in the day because Jack maintained his recipe was a secret, part of the reason he cited in wanting the kitchen to himself and forcibly declining any and all assistance. The rest of SG-1 privately thought he just reveled in proving he could cook unaided something beyond frozen pizza.
Soon, the food was cooked to Jack's satisfaction, and he served everyone, avoiding Daniel's pestering for the ingredients. As always, the Colonel never gave the slightest hint as to what he used. Inevitable banter soon sprang up, and Jack managed to get two dollars off of Daniel before they'd even started to eat. Sam grinned, and looked at her plate. It was loaded, and the burger much larger than she remembered. She sighed softly. There was no way she'd be able to finish even half of it, Jack made his burgers big. They were too good to go to waste.
"Something wrong, Sam?" Jack asked.
She shook her head quickly. "No sir, it's just there's no way I'm going to be able to eat all of this."
"Just eat what you can, Teal'c will eat the rest, won't you buddy?" Jack's look faded into one of dismay. "D'oh!"
Teal'c graced them all with one of his rare smiles, hiding his amusement by biting into his own mammoth sized burger as Jack tossed another bill onto the table to join the handful already there.
Sam grinned, cutting her burger in half before she dug in with enthusiasm. Despite a hearty appetite though, she only managed to clear little more than half of what she'd been served and pushed the unfinished plate towards the center of the table. Teal'c immediately took the remaining part of her burger. Daniel looked slightly disappointed but helped himself to her leftover potato chips. Fully stuffed, Sam leaned back and was unable to restrain a rather loud belch. Surprised faces all turned in her direction and Sam blushed slightly before rallying.
"I've still got it," she said, a slight hint of smugness in her tone.
Still looking a little startled by the amount of noise produced from the small body across the table, Jack swallowed his most recent bite. "I don't know Sam," he said, "I think that was only a six."
Sam pretended indignation straightening in chair. "No way, sir, that was way better than a six."
"At least an eight," chimed in Daniel, eyes twinkling as he forked up some more of her homemade potato salad.
She was finding it hard to keep a grin off her face when Teal'c added his opinion by releasing his own belch, his far eclipsing hers in any size. Helplessly, she giggled.
"Now that was a ten," she said, and no one disagreed.
"My compliments to the chef," Teal'c said, as way of excuse for his noisy interruption. Sam grinned openly and Jack's shoulders shook with restrained laughter.
"You just can't help yourself ever since Daniel told you about burping being complimentary rather than rude in some cultures," Jack accused, swiping the last of the potato salad before Daniel could claim the rest. Daniel scowled slightly, returning to the remains of food left on his plate.
"It is an honored Tauri tradition, is it not?" Teal'c asked.
"Honored or not," Sam interrupted before Daniel could join in the oft repeated debate, "You both owe a dollar in the Oops Jar," she said. Jack frowned, his dismay suddenly turning to joy as he realized that they'd finally gotten a dollar from Teal'c.
As Teal'c continued to look confused, Daniel pointed a fork at Teal'c. "Mr. Murray, you can't use words like Tauri."
Teal'c blinked, looking suitably chastened. "Indeed, Monsieur Paxton, I cannot," he replied, reaching for his wallet and extracting a bill as Jack silently gloated.
The rest of the meal was finished among companionable banter, with several more belches released by all from the table, the others teasingly rating the eruptions, though no one came close to topping Teal'c.
The food finally eaten, they all cleared the table, and Jack dragged out Chutes and Ladders to Sam's amusement and Daniel's confusion. Teal'c merely looked curious as Sam passed out markers while Jack explained the simple rules of the game. It didn't take long for all of SG-1 to become involved in the game.
Quite a bit more cash was added to the jar fund, to the point where Jack had to replace a handful of smaller bills with a larger one, shaking his head in dismay. He had no one to blame but himself though, since it was his mouth and goading that usually did the slip ups.
The game was close, but Teal'c won, looking far too smug over his victory considering he was playing a child's game. No one chose to enlighten the man that he hadn't been playing anything less than an honorable game. Jack ended up dead last again, and his grumbling about cheating and the game being rigged were only cut off when Daniel retrieved the cake from the car and Sam went to get plates, forks and a knife.
After they'd made an appreciable dent into the cake, the group lounged about, discussing little of consequence, although the thought of the next day lay heavy on everyone's mind. Finally, Teal'c and Daniel stood, citing the drive back to base and Daniel's apartment before finding their beds in order to be rested for the first day of school. Sam roused herself from where she'd started to doze on the chaise, following the group to the door and bidding both men a goodnight, surprising both of them with hugs. These moments, SG-1 moments, would be rare by necessity in the coming weeks, and the hugs were returned with equal enthusiasm, each man crouching down to her level after their initial surprise. Jack waited until the two men had pulled away before shutting the front door.
"That was good," he said of the night, and Sam nodded in agreement, heading out back to gather up the game board and leftover bottles, cans and detritus as Jack started to neaten up the slight disaster he'd inevitably created in the kitchen. Sam dumped all the garbage in the trash, cans and bottles into the recycle bin, and loaded plates in the dishwasher as Jack wiped down the counters and put things away. When the kitchen was neatened up, Sam reached up and pulled the back to school list off the refrigerator that they'd received earlier that week from the school. They'd only been missing a few items that a quick trip out had quickly rectified, and Sam had made sure earlier that day that she had everything as she'd packed her bag in case they'd needed to make one more trip to the store. Still, it didn't hurt to check one more time.
Curiously, Jack stopped tying up the garbage bag, and watched her curiously. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked.
"I'm making sure I have everything," she replied.
"Didn't you pack your bag earlier today?" he asked, still frowning slightly.
"I just want to make sure," she answered with a little shrug. She couldn't explain her need to check and double check preparations. It wasn't like lives would be at stake if she'd forgotten to pack the crayons or something, but old habits died hard, and she was about to embark on probably the most unusual mission of her life, which was a lot considering SG-1's usual mission roster.
Jack returned the shrug, somehow communicating his understanding while lifting the trash bag out of the can. "Suit yourself then," he said, taking the bag out. "I really wish you could see how odd you look though," he added lightly, on the way out the back door.
Sam grinned, heading for the living room. "I'm probably the only five year old independently packing her own school bag tonight," she admitted ruefully.
"Let me know if you need a hand," Jack called, as he stepped outside.
"Thank you sir, I'm good!" she called back, seating herself on the living room floor and upending the already packed bag on the floor, list in hand. Carefully, she repacked the bag for the second time that day, adding a second line of checkmarks next to the first as she placed each item back in the bag. The Colonel, having looked over the welcoming packet they'd received had already teasingly written her name on all items as requested by the teacher before she'd even had a chance to decide if she should ask him or not.
"Got everything?" asked Jack, as he entered the living room, stepping neatly around her and the rapidly diminishing pile. "Spare clothes, towel, paper, crayons, box of tissues?" He'd paid attention to the list as well.
Sam merely nodded, concentrating on the list, and fitting everything into the bag. She wondered a bit about some of the things, like the towel and change of clothes, but supposed there was a rationale for it. She also hoped that many of the items would be left behind after the first day, her backpack bulged appreciatively as she crammed the last of the items in, marking the pair of safety scissors off the list. "Just one more thing," she told him, getting up and heading to the kitchen, returning with a granola bar, which she tucked into one of the outer pockets. "The letter said to pack snacks everyday, even if the child will be buying lunches," she explained.
Jack nodded, "Yeah, I saw that," he said. "So, you gonna be buying, or brown bagging?" he asked.
Sam shrugged. "I'll probably bring something the first few days, who knows what their cafeteria food is like." She yawned, stretching as she moved her bag near the door where she wouldn't forget it in the morning. "We should do that shot now too, sir, so we don't forget."
"Oh, yeah, that," he agreed noncommittally.
"The bag is in the kitchen, why don't I just lay down on the couch?" she suggested, trying to infuse her voice with confidence. This time, there was no Janet, coolly and professionally moving things along.
"Um, ok," Jack replied, sounding less than enthused. He at least headed for the kitchen while Sam prepared herself, lying down on the couch and trying to get as comfortable as possible under the circumstances.
It seemed to take forever before she heard his footsteps behind her. "We, uh, used the right cheek last time didn't we?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yes sir," she replied, voice slightly muffled. "Use the left this time," she added.
"Ok." This time, Sam managed not to react as Jack located the correct landmarks, swabbing the area with alcohol. He gave her a count and Sam prided herself on remaining still and not making a sound during the injection. "You ok?" he asked, once it was finished. Sam nodded into the pillow, not trusting her voice at the moment. There was a pause, and Jack spoke again. "I'd better go put the needle in that jug in the kitchen," he said.
She waited until his footsteps moved away before releasing the breath she'd been holding, grateful for the privacy he'd given her. Moving gingerly, Sam got up off the couch. The second injection hadn't been any worse than the first, even without Janet's calm presence. Unfortunately, her right hip was still a little sore to the touch, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. In fact, she really hadn't thought about it much the entire weekend aside from a few times she'd bumped or jarred it. She still didn't think the discomfort bad enough to warrant having to swallow the gross, sticky children's elixirs. Besides, if the compound masked her naquadah-laden bloodstream from detection, she could put up with a little soreness. The mission was far more important.
Wandering out to the kitchen, Sam found Jack poking needlessly about the spacious kitchen, and smiled. "Goodnight, sir."
Jack turned at her voice, his eyes searching. What he found must have reassured him because his posture relaxed. "Night Sam."
Tomorrow was a big day.
A/N: Hope you're all still with me what with all the delays in posting and what all. I have a few more details to work out, but the next chapter will be Sam's first day (or second, depending how you view it!) of kindergarten.